Imhotep's crime
by Shea Pierce
Summary: go back in time and find out what imhotep did to be buried alive. ~*COMPLETED*~
1. Imhotep's Mistake

Disclaimer: I don't own the mummy or anything else.  
  
"Imhotep. Imhotep. Imhotep."  
  
Imhotep's eyes blurred. They were coming after him now. There was no escaping. The act he had done which was the cause of the anger-driven chants was flashing through his brain. It was bad thing. But he would do it again.  
  
Part 2.  
  
Anck-su-Numam slyly beckoned to Imhotep. He was hers, and she his. The only problem was her father. Anck-su-Numan's father, the Pharaoh of Egypt, was very strict. She was not to marry anyone under the rank of government official. But the one she loved was Imhotep, and his status being soldier, her father did not approve. So the couple was secretly married, while Anck-su-Numan's father married her to her cousin, Tutankhamen. The Pharaoh did not suspect anything, and Anck-su-Numam was happy with her double life. Until something happened to turn it upside down.  
  
Anck-su-Numam patiently waited for Imhotep to arrive at the secret room located behind the palace, in the greenhouse. Her body had been decorated by the high priests merely an hour before, so it was covered in Egyptian designs, the paint Henna.  
  
Imhotep dodged away from the sentry guarding the entrance to the greenhouse and stole away to another entryway Anck-su-Numam had showed him. If he was caught entering the greenhouse, he'd be demoted to a servant. If he was caught visiting Anck-su-Numam, he'd be executed. Imhotep shook his head, and tried to think of better things. It would not do to try and contemplate his fate.  
  
Imhotep reached the left side of the greenhouse and crawled through a small hole, barely seeable to most everyone except Imhotep and Anck-su- Numam. As soon as he entered the hole, darkness blinded him, like a mole. All he knew was the dirt- the cool, soft feel of the fertile soil. And then he saw a faint, but distinct light. He was almost out and that meant he was ever more closer to his love. Encouraged by this, Imhotep began to crawl ever the more faster. Then finally he saw Anck-su-Numam and the minutes spent as a mole began to seem worth it.  
  
Anck-su-Numam heard Imhotep coming and helped him climb out. She gave him a quick embrace, and Imhotep covered her head with his arms. The tragic couple hadn't seen each other in over a month because the Pharaoh had started to get suspicious. But now together, it all seemed worth it.  
  
Imhotep looked over the Pharaoh's daughter and suddenly became so overcome with emotion for her he couldn't help himself. He kissed her long and hard, wrapping his arms around and around her tanned body. But all of a sudden, Anck-su-Numam stopped. She pushed away from him and glanced at herself. She gasped. Anck-su-Numam's Henna bodily decorations were smudged and streaks of black ran up the sides of her body every which way. Imhotep realized what he had done and silently cursed himself. The Henna paint was smeared and there was nothing they could do until the Pharaoh found out about t. 


	2. AncksuNumam's Idea

Author's Note: I couldn't remember everything from the movie (I saw it a long time ago!) so it's not totally accurate. Please R&R so I know if I should finish or not. Thanks!  
  
Part 3.  
  
A rush a blood to Imhotep's head made him dizzy. It was all over now. Pharaoh would catch him. Somehow he would, Imhotep could not get away with it this time. He and Anck-su-Numam were caught.  
  
"Imhotep!" She called.  
  
Imhotep turned and saw his love's face light up with excitement. Evidently, she had a plan.  
  
"You did tell me you studied with a witch doctor in your early years, did you not?"  
  
Imhotep nodded his head in wonderment. What was this girl planning?  
  
"If it is my father's will that you die, then so be it. But you can bring yourself back to life, am I right? Then you can also bring me from the dead. We can live together, children of the grave."  
  
A shiver ran down Imhotep's back. What Anck-su-Numam was saying would be easy to carry through. It was true- in his earlier years he had been an apprentice to a witch doctor who had taught him many tricks of the trade- including reincarnation. The only question in his mind was, would it work? 


	3. Pharaoh's Discovery

Author's Note~ the character "Anck-su-Numam" is really supposed to be "Neferiti" as I was informed by numerous reviews. *lol* Jessie C. - I hope this is long enough for you! *It's hard!*  
  
Part 4.  
  
Pharaoh frowned. It was not usual for Neferiti, his favorite daughter, to be late. This was a special night, too. The occasion was a banquet held in honor of Neferiti herself. The high priest was visiting from Cairo to give his blessing on her twenty-first birthday. But with the hour growing later and Pharaoh growing more and more anxious by the minute, it seemed as if Neferiti would never arrive.  
  
Click. Click. Click. All seated at the enormous, finished oak dining table turned at the sound of heels clicking against the hard stone floor. Pharaoh breathed a sigh of relief. Neferiti was here at last. He scanned his daughter, making sure she looked presentable.  
  
Neferiti's long, jet-black hair glistened under the faint glow of torches. Her deep brown, chocolate eyes sparkled dangerously as they looked back at Pharaoh. She wore an angelically white sheet, toga-style. A slinky gold chain stretched across her narrow waist. Gold was the color of the gods and so Pharaoh gave as much gold to Neferiti as possible, for in his eyes she was a goddess. Golden snake bracelets wove themselves around her arms, ready to attack- mouths open, fangs at the ready. Those bracelets really are beautiful, Pharaoh thought to himself. They suited his daughter perfectly- a golden goddess with the venomous bite of a snake. Pharaoh shook his head and smiled until he saw something next to the exquisite bracelets.  
  
That very morning, Pharaoh and Neferiti had gone to the temple to be painted with Henna. Pharaoh's back was painted, as were Neferiti's arms. Pharaoh knew his designs were still intact but he could see his daughter's were not. The black Henna paint had been smeared and smudged, though Pharaoh could tell she'd tried to touch it up. He knew she had not been clumsy enough to ruin the design herself, so someone else must have. And Pharaoh had an idea of who that someone else was. 


	4. A Sad End for All

A/N: Hey sorry it took me so long to post this, you see, I wrote it all out on paper first, then my computer broke down, and then I'm a procrastinator/slow typer, so .. you get the picture. Well anyway, I hope you like this, Jessie C, because it's my last chance to please you. (It's a lot longer than my other chapters and I think it's better written. Warning: This chapter should be rated PG-13, so if you're offended by violence and father/daughter crushes, then I don't recommend reading this.  
Part 5.  
  
After the banquet and ceremony, Pharaoh found himself in his room. Then he remembered what he had come for.  
  
"Ramsees." He called for his most loyal servant.  
  
Ramsees arrived almost immediately, and waited patiently for an order.  
  
"Bring me my daughter, Nefertiri- she should be residing in her room; Tala, captain of the guard; and Imhotep. Do you know of whom I speak? One of my palace guards- tall, strong fellow."  
  
Ramsees simply nodded in recognition.  
  
"Good- now go ahead."  
  
Ramsees saluted and walked off in the direction of Nefertiri's bedroom.  
  
Pharaoh impatiently drummed his fingers against the tabletop. Opening his bureau, he clasped a small dagger. Grinning, he slipped it into his tunic. There would be bloodshed tonight.  
  
Knock. Knock. Knock.  
  
Pharaoh opened the door and beckoned Nefertiri and Imhotep inside. Pharaoh motioned for them to sit. Imhotep did so. Nefertiri lowered herself, then stumbled. Imhotep caught her wrist and helped her up. As she sat, Imhotep's hand strayed from her delicate wrist to her golden- bronze thigh. Nefertiri shivered. How she longed for him. His hand only stayed there for a split second, however. But it was long enough for Pharaoh to observe.  
  
"I see the two of you know each other already." Pharaoh said coldly.  
  
"Oh no- well, you see." Nefertiri stammered.  
  
"There is no need for explanation, sweet daughter." Pharaoh said, putting stress on the word "sweet."  
  
Pharaoh moved closer to his daughter, the beautiful Nefertiri. "Oh you really are beautiful," he murmured. While saying this, he touched her skin. Her bronze, goddess-like skin, tanned from sunbathing on the roof of the palace during the summer months. But of course she had worn nothing while taking part in this activity. When the royal family had gone to visit Nefertiri's crazy cousins in Saudi Arabia, they had taught her the secret to getting perfect skin. Rubbing oil over every inch of their bare bodies, they lay on the roof of their palace. When Nefertiri and her family (and of course, hordes of servants) had departed from Saudi Arabia, and were back in Cairo, Nefertiri wanted to try the Saudis' bronzing ritual on the roof of her own palace.  
  
Nefertiri remembered the day well. She had sent one of her servants to fetch a bottle of oil. When the servant returned with the oil, Nefertiri realized she could not spread the oil all over her body all by herself. So she told her father of the dilemma. Pharaoh had eagerly offered to oil Nefertiri himself. Nefertiri had thought it a bit odd, but accepted his offer. The two, father and daughter, had climbed to the roof of the palace and Nefertiri had unclothed. Though Nefertiri hadn't known, Pharaoh had begun to imagine touching her firm breasts, her toned ass. Nefertiri had a beautiful body and everyone knew. Her standard uniform of body-hugging garments failed to minimize her voluptuous curves. But Pharaoh had never imagined what immense beauty lay beneath those robes.  
  
Pharaoh then rubbed the smooth oil over Nefertiri's even smoother body. He had tenderly caressed her breasts and squeezed her crotch. But his daughter did not know. To her, he had just given her a bath of oil. And through the steamy summer months, Pharaoh was always the only one who could apply oil to Nefertiri. No one else was allowed to touch his daughter.  
  
Now, back in the present, Pharaoh felt the same emotion stroking Nefertiri's curvaceous body as he had applying her oil. He started at the bottom, tickling her toes. Then he made his way up- up her mile-long legs, up to her crotch, up over her womanly hips to her tiny waist, then up to her large breasts, and stopping as he fondled her smooth, lineless face.  
  
Nefertiri began to feel frightened. Was this the man she had trusted all her life? The only one to touch her like this was Imhotep. She uncomfortably shifted, backing away from her father.  
  
Immediately, Pharaoh's calm, sensual manner arubtly stopped. "So you are scared of me then? Your own father? No doubt your lover has stroked you in a similar manner. And I do not mean your husband, Tutankhamen. I mean your male concubine, Imhotep."  
  
Nefertiri gasped in horror and shock. He knew. Some way, some how, her father knew.  
  
Imhotep tried to deny the relationship. "Sir, I'm afraid you must be mistaken."  
  
Pharaoh stood his full height- six foot two. His enraged face showed a great wrath of fury. "Do not contradict me," he said in a low, raspy voice. "And now you shall die!"  
  
Before Imhotep could react, Pharaoh had lept onto him, drawing his dagger. Blind to his beloved daughter's cries, Pharaoh stabbed Imhotep wildly, like a madman. A cut here, a cut there, it did not matter to Pharaoh. He just wanted Imhotep dead.  
  
"Do you now realize your misdeed?" Pharaoh bellowed between stabs. "I love my daughter more than you will ever hope to know! And my love is unrequited, for she spends all her time with you!"  
  
And with that, Pharaoh plunged the dagger deep into Imhotep's chest. Not deep enough for him to be dead, but deep enough to make him wish he was. As the scarlet colored blood poured out of Imhotep's once-strong but now weak body, Pharaoh calmed himself. Panting like a dog, he called in Tala, captain of the guard, who had been waiting outside the door for the duration of the "meeting."  
  
Tala entered briskly, quickly grabbing Imhotep's arms and motioning for Pharaoh to grab Imhotep's legs. Pharaoh did so, and the two made their way to the dank dungeons down below.  
  
This left Nefertiri by herself, alone to mourn the death of her beloved, Imhotep. A lone tear ran down her already tear-streaked cheeks, but she didn't make a move to wipe it off. She simply didn't care enough. Her love was going to die, he was going to die the worst possible form of death known to the Egyptians, and there was nothing she could do to save him. Nothing. 


End file.
